Is there any more??

Peer Pressure

Whoever said boys are harder than girls didn't have a clue...

Just Another Day

5:00AM. First alarm goes off.

Doug is out of bed on the first ring. He has a big day today and unfortunately a very early morning. Burying myself in my covers, I wait for my alarm. Minutes before my alarm goes off, I feel a kiss goodbye and utter a sleepy good luck.

5:45AM. My turn.

As I am silencing the alarm, I hear Eric’s feet scamper down the stairs back to his room. I can already tell his first night sleeping in underwear didn’t go well.

7:15AM.

Sheets have been pulled off two beds, the sniff test performed on at least 100 stuffed animals, and I somehow have managed to get two fully dressed kids out the door with fruit bars in hand. Praise, bribe, threats, praise, bride, threats, not necessarily in that order. It’s a walking day and a Monday. That means two backpacks, two clean sleeping bags, milk, a puppy dog (he survived the great flood), a transformer, and two kids all in one bright orange BOB jogging stroller. We attract attention on any given day, but are particularly a sight this morning.

7:50AM. The school gates are in sight.

I am always amazed when we make it without incident. But I have gotten pretty good at predicting the trajectory of the oncoming spit, knowing where the food streets are so we can avoid the leftovers on our tires, and walking fast. I wipe the kids' mouths and hands with my shirt, I shake the leftover fruit bar off their bums, and greet the guards with a cheery Zao Shang Hao (good morning). 10 minutes later (ok..more like 15), the kids are off to the land of learning and playing and I am back on the streets for a run home.

My route always starts out nice. It is a 4 mile loop from school to home that starts in an expat area. I weave in and out of the street cleaners with their homemade brooms. I pass the occasional foreigner walking their dog. It feels like I have beaten everyone up this morning. About 2 miles in, I make a right turn and am quickly reminded that I live in a city of 24 million people whose day started hours ago. It is like an obstacle course, hopping over spare scooter parts, tip-toeing through puddles of who knows what, and running around the crowds of people waiting for the buses. I am always amazed at the myriad of smells one can encounter in such a short distance. Dogs must go crazy here. Fresh baked bread, sulfur, sewage, urine, over ripened fruit, and then there’s that “China smell”. It is hard to explain. It is a mixture of plastic, rubber, and some sort of cleaner. It is everywhere. Breathing out of your nose here is at your own risk and sometimes unavoidable.

I stop at an intersection waiting for the “green man” and witness yet another taxi hit a scooter. The scooter driver seems ok, but is rubbing his knee and gingerly bending it to make sure everything still works. I spend the next 2 blocks wondering why people don’t wear helmets here, not even kids. Watching kids and their parents, I see kids as young as 1 standing on scooters on their way to wherever with no restraints and no helmet. I almost put helmets on the kids in the stroller on the way to school, but figure it might be a bit over the top. At the next intersection, waiting again for the green man, I find myself standing next to a dog. Oddly enough he appears to be waiting for the signal to walk as well. And the second it turns green, he glances to the left and takes off across the street. Crazy.

1 block from home, I nearly knock over an old man as I jump out of the way of a scooter that appeared out of nowhere. After a badly pronounced dui bu qi (I'm sorry), I sprint for the gates to our compound, passing the people whose job it is to collect the cardboard and bottles from anyone willing to sell it to them. It is early for them still, so they are napping in the shade on top of their wagons. Through the gates, I am welcomed by silence, trees, and clean sidewalks. I pass by the elderly women practicing tai chi in the courtyard. I walk to my building and say a few hellos to the other drivers waiting for their bosses. I luck out and get the elevator that is air conditioned. I open our door and say Ni Hao (hello) to Xiao Huang, wishing I could ask her how her weekend was. I already hear the screams of the saws and drills in the apartment above us. Renovation…should be done by February.

I glance at the clock, it is 8:46AM. Time to start my day.

No Fear

For the record, Sophia was the first to take the plunge. ;O)

Culture Shock

Xiao Huang, our Ayi (compliments of Eric)

In the midst of packing up our house in NY and trying to get everything squared away for our move across the world, Doug and I took 4 days of cultural training to “prepare” us for the world of differences we would find when we landed in China. It was worth every minute we spent and has definitely contributed to our successful transition here. We knew the signs of culture shock and could get in front of them, both for ourselves and for the kids, before they spiraled out of control. But what they didn’t address was how an admittedly independent and stubborn woman like myself should navigate through this new world of “household staff”. Ayis and drivers.

I know, I know…everyone says it. I am so lucky to have both, how could I ever complain. And honestly, it isn’t real complaining. It is actually me dealing with my culture shock. It is my house, my family, my responsibility. It is what I am most proud of in my life and most protective of. It is my one and only and it is hard for a person with my personality to let it go. But as you do with most things in China (and in life), you go with it because you will spend more time and energy fighting it than you will just coming to terms with it and making it work.

Our driver had me at ni hao. Coming off our first 15 hour flight with the kids, struggling with 300 lbs of our most sacred possessions through this absurdly long and winding path (which in my opinion specifically designed so that hundreds of Chinese people have plenty of time to gawk at each person coming through), there stood Mr. Jun. Even-tempered, a bit shy, but friendly enough and a very fast walker. Within minutes, everything was taken care of and we had somehow fit everything and everyone into two mini-vans. Mr. Jun has since become an integral part of our family, whether he wants to be or not. He puts up with us and the kids, our crazy American ways, and our schedules. He is always early, never lost, and always genuinely happy. He is thoughtful and attentive, stocking the car with cold Diet Cokes after realizing we had a serious addiction to it and surprising Eric with a Spiderman that sticks to the window next to his seat. He lifts Pia into the car and always waits patiently when she insists on buckling her own seatbelt. Simply put, Jun is our best friend in China and there is no way we could live here without him.

The “ayi” concept was a bit different. Ayi (pronounced eye-ee) literally means auntie in Chinese. Essentially everyone has one. Ayis even have ayis. I am not sure how Chinese people use them, but in the expat world they can really be used for anything. Cooking, cleaning, babysitting, personal shoppers, anything to ensure that the household and the kids are happy. Given that this is my domain, you can probably see where I had some “challenges” adapting to this particular aspect of China. However, after the first few weeks of realizing what it took to keep a house clean in this smoggy city, I was ready to take the plunge. We were lucky to find an ayi that is the sister of some friends of ours here. For some illogical reason, I felt comforted that she wasn’t going to steal the kids straight away since her sister’s job would also be impacted. And she claimed that she could cook and clean. So, after a 20 minute conversation, we invited Xiao Huang into our lives and prayed that it worked out. And it has. It has taken 6 months for me to get there, but I am there. She doesn’t speak any English, so as my Chinese improves, we are getting to know each other better. I show her pictures of our families and friends and try to explain how we are all related. Her cooking improves as we get more adventurous with what we are willing to try. And she adores the kids and would feed them chocolate for dinner every night if I let her. When I got home today from dropping the kids at their first day of school, she wanted the full run down on how things went. When I told her that Eric cried the whole way there, she nodded obviously knowing as well as I did that this was unavoidable. And when I told her Sophia waved goodbye and found her new babies, she grinned with that same look of pride in her eyes. She may not be the best at everything, but she is great at the things that matter.

So, 8 months into our Chinese adventure (wow, 8 months!!), our family has grown to a family of 6. And no, there are no babies on the way. ;O)

Summer Vacation

School’s out, bedtimes defined by how long I could force my eyes to stay open, fish fins sprouted at my sides, and ice cream flowing at every meal. I fondly remember these days of my own childhood like they were yesterday.

I can't help but remembering a good friend telling me years ago how good his kids had it. Their summers were filled with much of the same and they didn’t know how good they had it. He joked that he had to come to work every day to fund their summer adventures and that when he died he hoped that he could come back as either his kids or his dog. Only years later can I truly appreciate what he meant.

Summer vacation started for us the last week in June when we picked the kids up from their last day of school and went straight to the airport and off to the US. We were all so excited that the 13 hours to Toronto hardly fazed us. We then spent the next 5 weeks bouncing all over the US, flying on 7 more flights to visit with all of our families and friends, meeting our newest cousin and niece Emma, and feeling our future cousin and nephew Charlie kick in rhythm with the chaos of his big sister and two older cousins. We ate more ice cream, hot sticks, cheese curds, steaks, brats, cereal, pancakes, and Chipotle then I thought was humanly possible. We went to every park, zoo, water park, lake, and amusement park east of the Mississippi. At every turn, we all felt like kids again, without a care in the world, wiping ice cream from our faces, and sound asleep by 9.

Sitting on our final plane, waiting to take off back to China, I stared out the window and found myself wiping tears from my cheeks. Happy tears. We had a summer that you dream about. One you just never forget.

Oh...to be a kid again.

1st Stop - The land of the never ending hot sticks, boat rides, and Miller Lite - Wisco
Our costume birthday party - A bunch of crazy cats!
(click on the picture to see more Wisco photos)

Our Pia and the new toy from Grandpa Dar (guess who is still talking about it?!)

The cousins

Forth of July Parade - A classic picture, perfectly timed to capture each of their true personalities

Family. Enough said.

Next Stop - Dogs, dogs, dogs...and finger-licking Bojangles - North Carolina
The newest Wisch addition - Our beautiful Emma Marie
(click on the picture to see more NC pics)

Grandma Les and Grandpa Don doing what they do best

The Great Wolfe Lodge and Tweetsie Railroad

Can we say kiss a$$?!
Final Stop - Fun-noodles, camp fires, and 4th birthday parties - New York

Happy 4th Birthday Eric!! (FINALLY!!)
(Click on the picture of Eric to see more pictures of NY)

BFFs and their Super Heros

Dare Devil Pia

Bonus - Our Surprise Trip to Detroit (Thanks Delta Airlines!)
The Detroit Zoo and the Dino Exhibit
(Click on the first picture to see more of Detroit)

Cool pool time with "Grandma" Debbie and Uncle Mike ;O)

Great-grandpa Ted

Total System Meltdown

As an adult, you think of jet lag as a minor inconvenience, a few days of being a bit tired, going to bed early and maybe seeing your day start before the sun shows itself watching CNN. However, as a parent of two kids who board that 15-hour plane ride with a continued sense of adventure and flexibility, I have come to despise the mere mention of the word. I am not sure who actually came up with the English term “lag”, but it should be more aptly named “jet havoc” or perhaps “total system meltdown”.

We have gone through 3 bouts of this so-called jet lag with the kids now and it doesn’t get any easier. Eric in particular had a rough go this time. While we have done everything possible to keep him awake, tire him out, fill his belly up at dinner, without fail I hear the whisper next to me around 3AM. Momma, I am hungry. Momma, I have to poop. Momma, can I watch a show? Last night he literally fell asleep at the dinner table and then snuck into his bed to fall asleep again while we cleared the table. We had to prop him up in the tub to wash away the obvious fun-filled day he had. And again…4AM…Momma, is it time to get up yet?

They say give it 1 day for every time zone you cross. Guess that means another 5 more days until all systems are a go. At least I will have plenty of pre-dawn time to contemplate time travel.